Headstrong, Trapped
by The Candle Flame
Summary: Dom remembers, and regrets what can never be. Songfic. Based on 'Headstrong', by the band Trapt.


**Note: A songfic, featuring Dom. The song is 'Headstrong', by Trapt; I took artistic license with the spelling of the story title. The song lyrics are italicized.**

**I never thought I'd write a songfic in a million years, but was inspired by Hero's Song, by Lioness's Heart, so thanks must go to her! I also find it amazing that this turned into an angst fic, when this song to me symbolizes strength, and I feel uplifted by playing it. But that wasn't how Dom wanted it written, so...  
**

**It skips back and forth between present time, and memories – I hope it's not too hard to follow.  
**

**Well, enough stalling, here it is. **

**Headstrong, and Trapped…**

* * *

Domitan of Masbolle was an excellent soldier and officer; a Sergeant of the Kings Own. Even though he was acknowledged as one of the best warriors of the Own, he never felt entitled to the expectation that he would live to see his next birthday, as others in less hazardous work might. Therefore, having actually reached another birthday, having been stronger and better trained than his enemy, once again (but when would he meet his match, he always wondered? For surely he must have used most of his luck by now), Dom was trying not to be introspective, or regretful of the past. After all, we cannot change the past, only learn from it, something Dom knew only too well.

He was not having much success with this endeavour; as a sociable sort, he was most comfortable around others, rather than alone in his chambers, as he was now. But, for some reason, he didn't feel like going to the mess for dinner. He tried to convince himself he didn't know why, but lying to himself was something Dom had never been particularly good at.

As he nursed a tumbler of brandy before the fire – the snows had come early this year, and it was cold, even deep within the palace – he mused. Or, to be more accurate, he remembered.

---

Dom never had liked Cleon. It wasn't in response to Cleon's jealous behaviour when Dom flirted with Kel; it wasn't even because he was jealous of Cleon himself. He simply didn't like the tall redhead - who also happened to be Kel's suitor. He also didn't know where this seemingly unfounded enmity had come from. Had Cleon said something insulting, against the Own, or towards Kel? He didn't think so, but he still couldn't shake his dislike – or the feeling that Cleon wasn't being completely honest with her.

_Circling your, circling your, circling your head,  
Contemplating everything you ever said_

Not only that, but Dom felt as though Cleon was deliberately misleading Kel – for his own gain. And Dom hated it.

_Now I see the truth I got doubt_

_A different motive in your eyes _

_And now I'm out, see you later_

Dom could clearly see where Cleon's flirtation and warm kisses would lead – straight to Kel's bedroll.

_I see your fantasy_

_You want to make it a reality paved in gold_

Kel had a pregnancy charm, Dom was sure; she was too careful and had worked too damned hard to make such a mistake now. And she was nearly a woman grown – certainly capable of telling a man 'no', and of knowing her own mind, too.

_See inside, inside of our heads, yeah_

But it wasn't Kel he didn't trust; it was Cleon. The Knight could make Kel fall in love with him, and then leave her for another – he was capable of it. Dom had seen it in his eyes – recognized it. Seen it before, in the mirror.

_Well, now that's over_

_I see your motives inside_

_Decisions to hide_

But that time was past; cliché as it was, Dom had changed, for the better – because of Kel. For Kel, not that she or anyone else was ever to know.

Dom decided that he would simply continue to watch out for her, until the relationship between her and Cleon of Kennan fell apart naturally, as he was sure it would. And in the meantime, just be a friend. Just be his usual flirty self, and hope she noticed that he saved his flirting just for her, now. And woe betide any man to flirt with her, or enemy to threaten her, whilst Dom was around!

_Back off, I'll take you on  
Headstrong to take on anyone  
I know that you are wrong  
Headstrong, we're headstrong_

_Back off, I'll take you on  
Headstrong to take on anyone  
I know that you are wrong _

_And this is not where you belong_

---

Dom sighed and refilled the tumbler, before slumping into the closest armchair. The firelight played across his face, creating shadows. Outside the window opposite was nothing but darkness; somehow he had missed the sunset, busy in his reflections - and avoiding Kel. Rolling the glass between his palms, and talking a hearty gulp of the liquid, Dom wondered when it was that he realised he was in love – with a woman he could never have.

_I can't give everything away  
I won't give everything away_

---

He had considered approaching her about his fears about Cleon, but realized – through subtle questioning of Neal – that Cleon had fallen into his own trap; he was much more in love than Kel was.

When Neal wrote again, and amongst their other correspondences, mentioned that Cleon was no longer wooing Kel, Dom felt a sense of relief greater than he had ever known. Dom's cousin also wrote that the other Knight had fallen on hard times and was betrothed to a rich heiress. Dom knew it was wrong to feel triumph at the expense of another, but this time he couldn't help himself.

He undertook his duties with more enthusiasm than ever, causing the men to wonder at his upswing in mood. The men teased him constantly, certain (and not entirely incorrect, either) that it was a lady involved - a new sweetheart. How Dom wished it were true!

_Conclusions manifest, your first impression's_

_Got to be your very best_

_I see you're full of shit and that's alright_

But just because Kel was no longer involved with Kennan didn't mean he had a chance with her himself – so these feelings he would keep to himself for a time longer.

_That's how you play, I guess you get through_

_Every night, well, now that's over_

When Dom next saw Kel, she'd passed her ordeal – she was no longer Squire Kel, the King's Own Squire (his own, he thought privately), she was now Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan. He was proud of her; they all were. She had seen insurmountable odds, declared them beatable, and gone on to achieve the impossible. If any page or squire deserved their shield, it was Kel. And knowing her, she would now be anxious to prove she had earned it; to do her duty and help people.

_I see your fantasy_

_You want to make it a reality paved in gold_

_See inside, inside of our heads, yeah_

As far as Dom, all Kel's other friends, and most of the Own were concerned, she'd earned her shield years before she had actually received it. But while she was away he missed her; missed riding alongside her at the great Progress; eating next to her at the campfire; teasing her about Peachblossom, her vengeful but endlessly loyal gelding.

_Well, now that's over_

When he first rode with Kel to the refugee camp she named 'Haven' (so appropriate, from Kel, Dom mused) he knew she felt conflicted. She felt unsure of herself with such a large command, and terrified that even now, she was still being kept away from the true fighting. But he also saw the way the refugees became her refugees; the soldiers her soldiers; and Haven truly became her command. That was why he wasn't surprised to overhear from Connac and Hevlor that she hadn't returned with the rest of the party; she'd gone after her people, deep into enemy territory.

_I see your motives inside_

_Decisions to hide_

Raoul asked Dom's squad to follow Kel not only because he knew they were strong, trustworthy fighters, but because they knew Kel, and because Raoul seemed to know, subconsciously at least, that Dom would not have stayed behind anyway.

_Back off, I'll take you on  
Headstrong to take on anyone  
I know that you are wrong  
Headstrong, we're headstrong_

Sometime during their time in Scanra he'd seen she was not only someone to respect and admire for her fighting abilities, her cool head in the face of danger, and her natural talent for command; but also someone to cherish, and protect, because she was Kel. For herself. And protect her he would, against anyone and anything he had to. He carried her out of the castle after she killed Blayce, and felt oddly reluctant to leave her in Neal's capable hands. A surge of protective instinct rose inside him, and he had to fight to control it.

_Back off, I'll take you on  
Headstrong to take on anyone  
I know that you are wrong _

_And this is not where you belong_

---

Dom lifted the tumbler and tipped it until it was vertical. Distracted, he stared into the glass, and realized it was empty, again. He stood, meaning to refill it, and then saw that the level of the decanter was far lower than it ought to be – he had drunk more than he noticed. He had, however, no desire to become a drunken mess on his birthday; he had an early morning meeting with Raoul to look forward to, and had no intention of experiencing a hangover when he attended it. Going over reports made him miserable enough without a pounding headache and nausea to boot.

He placed the tumbler down next to the decanter, and lifted the poker off the mantle to poke half-heartedly at the fire. His eyes, normally a clear blue, had darkened as he thought, and he ran a hand distractedly through his hair, further messing the dark locks.

Dom knew he loved Kel. He knew he wanted her. He also knew he could not have her. The law stating members of the Own had to be unmarried had been waived only for the Commander – after all, Raoul was a Knight first, rather than an actual member of the Own, for all he seemed like one. For the rest of them, however, nobility meant nothing; Dom's rights as a noble had reserved him rooms in the palace, whenever he was on leave (instead of on a permanent basis like the Knights gained); however, they did not extend to allowing him both a career and a family.

_Where you belong?_

_(I can't give everything away)_

_This is not where you belong_

_(I won't give everything away)_

It was not fair, this double standard; knights could have both family and career, and the King's Own couldn't. But all's fair in love and war, as Dom knew the saying went.

He couldn't lead Kel on; he could not take her even as a lover, for he knew it wouldn't be enough, and then both of them would be hurt when the relationship ended, as it must. No; bad enough this pain for himself; he would not share this burden with Kel – Mithros knew she carried enough of her own.

_I know, I know all about, I know, I know all about_

_I know, I know all about, I know, I know all about_

_Your motives inside and your decision to hide_

Dom no longer wondered whether Kel would ever feel the same way for him as he did for her – whether her heart would turn over in her chest when he smiled at her, or a casual touch would leave skin tingling. Whether his smile, and laugh, meant the world to her, or left her breathless. It no longer mattered. In fact, he hoped that he had been deluding himself all this time; that she did not and would never care for him as he cared for her. Once he had sworn to protect her; now he held that oath, protecting her from himself.

_Back off, I'll take you on  
Headstrong to take on anyone  
I know that you are wrong  
Headstrong, we're headstrong_

_Back off, I'll take you on  
Headstrong to take on anyone  
I know that you are wrong _

_And this is not where you belong_

Even though he had decided to keep Kel at arm's length, romantically speaking, for both their good, he knew that asking himself to stay away from her entirely was folly, and would not happen. He drank in her laugh, her smile; the happiness he could sometimes glimpse in her hazel eyes. He was like a man dying of thirst, unable to get enough, unable to refuse himself liquid until he drank himself to death. That was how he felt, anyway. Kel was like a poison in some ways – or a drug. Addictive, but oh, so damaging. Dom knew he belonged at Kel's side, as her friend if nothing more, but he also knew that it wasn't up to him, ultimately; it was King and Country that mattered. If duty called, he would have to leave her – and like her, it was duty that called to him. He could not leave his men, or give up what good he could do through his work – not for a noble life of marriage and babies. Not even for Kel. And that was what it came down to.

_Where you belong?_

_This is not where you belong_

_(I can't give everything away)_

_This is not where you belong_

_(I won't give everything away)_

_This is not where you belong_


End file.
